I smell Bacon.

It's the little things.

It's the little things that I find endlessly humorous about life here on Brick Lane.

1) I live (..pausing...) on Bacon Street. Directions to my new flat are, essentially, "Walk down Brick Lane, and take your first left after Bacon Street." Mildly amusing, but the brilliance of Bacon Street is that, starting about 100 years ago, Brick Lane was a predominately Jewish area. And since the 70's, it's been predominately South Asian/Muslim. WHO was eating the Bacon?

2) The Hair Bus. In a parking lot just off Sclater Street is the Bus O' Hair Salon. Imagine the Partridge family bus if it were double decker and splashed with random dirty art. With a hair salon on the top floor. I will get my hair cut there one day, although I'm afraid of ending up with a over-trendy hair cut that will garner itself a regional nickname. Move over "Hoxton Fin," I will bring on the "Brick Lane Bob"

3) Banglicious. Seeing as I live on a street with more curry houses per meter than you could imagine, I've been inspired to try out the flava's of the subcontinent. Cookbook in hand, I went to my local and laregst supermarket, BanglaCity--home of 10 pound bags of rice, and 5 pound bags of Fenugreek Seeds, etc. I bought enough for a Lamb and Herb Soup (real name unknown, sorry) and 15 pounds of mysterious spices later, I stumbled to the checkout till. Still missing the lamb for the soup, I asked the man where I could find cubed lamb pieces. "You might want to try BanglaTown, down the road," he said. Naturally. Competing BanglaCity and BanglaTown supermarkets. Te quiero, Brick Lane.

Tomorrow, I'm off to hit the Brick Lane Markets, in search of other sundry shizz for the new flat. Dir'y house party to come. Stay tuned and get out your shhhedules. xoxox